


winterfell

by DottyDot



Series: drabblefest 2020 [5]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, prompt: winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24183652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DottyDot/pseuds/DottyDot
Summary: She pulled herself up and over him. Fingers trailing down from his face to his chest. “You could teach me all sorts of things.”Jon groaned. “You don’t fight fair, Sansa. You never did.”
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Series: drabblefest 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1740049
Comments: 24
Kudos: 76
Collections: Jon x Sansa Drabble





	winterfell

“You’ll miss it one day.”

Their tent was small, only large enough for them, side by side, but Jon told her when they found a spot she liked, where there was fresh water nearby, they’d stitch a real one, or he’d make her a cabin if she wanted. She told him she didn’t mind, she knew what she was getting into, but Jon was determined to be regretful on her behalf.

“I’ll miss it many days, but it never felt the same, after—”

Jon squeezed her hand.

“—and I missed you more than I can say. I’d rather be with you wherever that is than waiting for you, even if I was doing the waiting in Winterfell. One day we’ll return. When you’re free to walk into Winterfell by my side, that’s when I’ll see it again—together.”

“It’s a strange thought—returning home, returning to stay.”

Sansa was quiet for a moment. “Or maybe we won’t. I thought—we could take some land—a farm. I could raise chickens.”

“Chickens?” Jon did _not_ hide his surprise.

“Don’t laugh. I can tend chickens. You would have to butcher them when the time came. Probably pluck them too,” with a laugh, “but I would make you a feather pillow.”

Jon could stop his laughter no more than he could hide his surprise. “Do you know anything about farming? Or poultry? What would we even eat?”

“I’d make you pies with my chickens, with peas and onions, each and every day. I didn’t spend all my time mooning about while you were gone. I did learn _some_ things.”

“Did you.”

“I did, and don’t sound so superior. As if you know more than I about how to live a life of our own choosing.”

Judging by Jon’s silence, Sansa began to wonder if her idea was too unexpected, but he drew a breath, pulled her closer to his side, “I might use a plow, rather than a sword.” She did not need to see his face to know what the thought of putting down his sword meant. Turning on her side, she traced a line down one scar, then another. Young still, and yet so many stories of how close he came to dying with a sword in his hand.

“I’d have to be pardoned, then we’d need to find land, and I’d have to learn it all. I’ve never—I know nothing about it.”

“Your looks aren’t all you’re good for, Jon. I know you could do it. And you’re a good teacher. You could teach me all about farming and raising chickens.” She pulled herself up and over him. Fingers trailing down from his face to his chest. “You could teach me all sorts of things.”

Jon groaned. “You don’t fight fair, Sansa. You never did.”

“That’s because I’m not fighting to be nice, Jon. I’m fighting to win.”

“You always do.” But judging by his kiss, Jon seemed to prefer it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
